Lost Souls

Chapter One: I Could Use a New Toothbrush

Aubrey's POV:

"Drink up me hearties, yo ho!" Jack Sparrow's voice boomed throughout the room as the TV screen went black as the night sky outside. "Ah, I just love Jack Sparrow so much," I sighed as I watched the list of closing credits roll down the screen.

I was sleeping over at Megan's house, annoying her by watching my favorite movie series of all time.

"More than Johnny Depp himself?" Megan asked incredulously with a raised eyebrow. I blinked at her. "Of course not! That is simply impossible," I said, giving her a smirk. She rolled her eyes. "Why in the world are you obsessed with Johnny Depp when Orlando Bloom is standing right next to him?!" she asked in puzzlement, referring to their roles as Jack Sparrow and Will Turner.

She adjusted her position on her bed, which caused me to unwillingly bounce towards the edge, but not enough to fall off. Her bed was big. But not big enough to not be an offense when put in a comparison to her ginormous room. But not small enough either to not be seen upon as big, compared to mine at least. Apart from her messy floor, which was engulfed in sky-high piles of clothes from her closet and dressers (a result of her newly found obsession with organizing her clothes), her room was just perfect and cute in every way my room wasn't. Key-words to her bedroom are big, white, pink, sparkles and a lot of fluff. A lot of it. It would be an overstatement to say that I wasn't even in the slightest bit jealous of her room, though I must give her props for successfully matching her blonde hair, soft facial features and her bubbly personality to her fluffy room. Everything that had the capability of being fluffy, was covered in white, soft fluff. Like one of her pillows I was currently hurling in her direction as a result of her senseless talking of Johnny Depp.

"Johnny Depp is way hotter, excuse you!" I scowled at her narrowed my eyes in mere disbelief, to which she gave me a scoff in return. "Keep wishing that," she said.

"Megan, you are indeed my best friend but that doesn't mean that I won't refrain myself from drowning you in your cute, expensive pillows if you keep saying that Orlando is better-looking!" I grabbed two of her pillows, ready to throw them in her face. "Fine, fine! They are equally hot, just put down my poor babies already," she pleaded.

I huffed in annoyance, not fully satisfied and content with her answer.

"Wrong answer," I smirked, throwing her pillows in her face, which caused her to fall backwards. I continued to shower her face in pillows until she surrendered, much to my satisfaction.

"Okay, okay, okay! I surrendered, Johnny is way hotter, happy?!" she groaned in agony, rubbing her face. I dropped the pillows from my hands, "That's more like it," I said giving her a smug smile. She pmumbled something incoherent in return, which I decided to ignore.

"Megan Collins, have you seen the man? From his irresistible looks to his stupendous talents, he is simply perfect, and not to mention, everything a girl is asking for," I argued with a foolish smile plastered on my face, one mostly to myself.

"Aubrey Wilson, yes, I have in fact seen the man! He dresses like a hobo," she responded with bafflement and a grimace, to which she earned an eye roll.

"Name one celebrity that rocks what you so disrespectfully call a hobo look better than him," I raised an eyebrow, waiting curiously for her answer with arms crossed. She went quiet.

"Uuh, I can't think of someone right now but I bet my pillows that Orlando looks hundred times better in Johnny's hobo clothes! And me being willing to bet my pillows definitely says a lot" she finally responded smugly. At this point, I was starting to feel despair as a result of trying to reason with her.